


I Love You, And You, And You

by Shabby Abby (KJPearl)



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Chef AU, F/M, Happy AU, M/M, Multi, Other, Poly shenanigans, Polyamory, Romantic Comedy, Waiter AU, no pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6283858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJPearl/pseuds/Shabby%20Abby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lives of Doug Eiffel and his android girlfriend Hera as they navigate life, happiness, and romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only Just a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> To give credit where it's due this was loosely inspired by this post on tumblr (http://radical-rin.tumblr.com/post/140987487112/heres-an-idea-wolf-359-is-just-a-nightmare-that): "Here’s an idea: Wolf 359 is just a nightmare that one of the characters is having. Sort of like The Wizard Of OZ. They wake up, are on Earth, and the rest of the characters are just friends/acquaintances they know irl."

Eiffel woke with a gasp, his throat feeling less swollen and mucousy then it had in days.

“What is it?” Hera sat up, metallic skin shining in the early morning light.

“I just had the weirdest dream. You were…a spaceship,” Eiffel said.

“What? Eiffel, just because I’m an android—”

“I know, I know you’re a person,” his eyes swept hungrily over her body, identical to that of a human but for the metallic casing. Well, that and everything inside, “I definitely know, but I can’t control where my weird dreams go. I mean, you were still you. Humanistic AI and all, just without a body. And Minkowski, Lovelace, Hilbert and I were all astronauts.”

“Sounds like all your space dreams come true,” Hera smirked.

“You’d think, right? But it was some kind of twisted hell-hole. Hilbert was evil and he kept doing weird experiments in me. And not in a good way,” he shuddered, “There was a plant monster and evil bosses and our ship kept breaking down and trying to kill us all. I’ve never nearly-died that much in a dream.”

“Well it was just a dream,” she wrapped her arms around her boyfriends’ body as it trembled slightly.

“It was just, really intense. Sorry,” he tucked his head into the crook of her neck, warm from the electricity running within her.

“Don’t apologize, it’s probably just a result of you flu,” she held her hand up to his forehead, “Yeah, your fever’s broken so that’s the worst of it over.”

“Ugh, I just hate being sick, it makes my emotions all—all weird,” he groaned.

“Well, you know what you humans are like, with your fragile carbon-based bodies,” she grinned.

“Laugh it up Miss Needs a Software Update Every Few Months.”

“But honestly, are you interested in Hilbert, because I thought you were currently busy with your crush on Minkowski and Koudelka?”

“Not Hilbert. Ew,” Eiffel gave an over exaggerated grimace, “And yes, I am very busy with Operation Get With the Minkowskis. They are both super hot in case you hadn’t noticed. Like yeah, they’re scary but also waaay hot.”

“Exactly your type then.”

“Yup,” he stretched up to kiss her. She kissed him back for a moment before she stood.

“I’ll go get you some tea,” she said.

He groaned, “I’m so sick of tea. If I’m better can’t I go back to drinking coffee?”

“You’re not better yet. You’ve just gotten past the fever. Give it a few days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Fixed the spacing, thanks to harpers_mirror.


	2. Pancakes and Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the Minkowski-Koudelka household does breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has decided to be a restaurant AU. (Part of why this chapter took so long as that I couldn't decide where everyone would work.)
> 
> So you may have noticed the Hera/Maxwell tag. It doesn't appear in this chapter but after episode 32 that will definitely happen at some point.

“David,” Renee Minkowski whispered, “David, I know you’re awake.”

“I’m not,” he groaned into the pillow, ignoring his wife as she stood in the doorway, already wide awake and fully dressed.

“Oh, what a shame. I guess you don’t want the pancakes?” she walked over to the bed and sat next to him.

“Pancakes?” his head shot up, “I’m awake, now.”

“Since you’re awake,” she smirked, “you won’t mind helping me with the pancakes.”

“A betrayal from my own wife?” he gasped as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“You’re getting pancakes from a five star chef. I wouldn’t complain.”

“True. I do adore your pancakes,” he climbed out of bed, pulled a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and the two headed towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was a minimalist affair, as Renee’s domain it had been designed by her for pure function. The room was colourless white and metal, brightened only by the light from the wide windows. Every pot, pan, and utensil had a specific place in the cabinets. Every machine  was carefully placed on the counter. She moved through the kitchen with an instinctive grace that came from years of experience and a perfect knowledge of her work space. 

David headed over to the pantry to get the non-perishable ingredients while Renee went to the fridge. He pulled out the flour, baking soda, salt and sugar then put them down on the counter where Renee had already set out the mixing bowl and remaining ingredients.

David sat down at the island—white marble, stainless steal stools—and watched silently as she added the dry ingredients, carefully sifting in the flour to add air. Then she added the liquids and mixed. She heated up the griddle and dropped the batter on in clean circles. David remembered his time in college, making pancakes out of the bottled mix. Even with easy-squeeze bottle his circles hadn’t been as neat as Renee’s drizzled spoons were. And his had always had a vaguely chemical aftertaste. He was returned to the present by the strong smell of pancakes. 

“That smells delicious,” he said, “have I ever mention you’re my favourite wife?”

“I’m your only wife,” she frowned mock-seriously at him.

“My only and favourite wife,” he leaned over the counter to place a kiss on her furrowed brow.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Flattery gets me pancakes,” he grinned and she gently slapped his arm. He loaded a few pancakes onto his plate then got the maple syrup out of the fridge. He drizzled it onto his small stack and began to eat. Renee, who ate her pancakes plain, was already starting on her second. They ate for several minutes in the comparable silence that came from years of marriage.

“Anyway, I have to go to work,” Renee said once they  had finished. She picked up both their plates and put them in the sink to wash later.

Already?”

“Yeah, it’s already 9:30,” she headed towards the door, pulling her thin, spring coat out of the closet. She knelt down to lace up her shoes.

“And Doug is coming back today?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Renee smiled slightly as she always did at the thought of her favourite waiter.

“Send him my love.”

“Your love, huh?” she smirked.

“Is that coming on too strong? I don’t want to scare him off. Maybe just send well-wishes?” 

Renee gave her husband a small, reassuring grin, “Don’t worry so much. Your love will be just fine. Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you when you come to visit me at work? It’s almost sickening.”

“But you love us anyways?”

“I do, God help me I do,” she sighed. “And now I really need to go. Bye, love.”

“Bye,” David headed back to their room which beckoned with its still warm bed, glad that he at least got the weekends off.


	3. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiffel is finally well enough to go back to work where _some people _missed him.__

Eiffel was finally able to get back to work, and he was so ready. After a few weeks off due to his fever he was bored out of his mind. He also found himself weirdly missing his job. He ignored Hera’s teasing that he really just missed a certain co-worker and her husband. While that was part of it, there was another part that he wouldn’t admit to himself or his girlfriend. He honestly missed Minkowski, and not just because of his crush, as well as all his other co-workers. Even the slightly creepy sous chef, Hilbert. Eiffel had actually managed to find a job he liked with co-workers he liked. He missed going to work every day.

“You ready, Eiffel?” Hera called from downstairs.

“Just a minute, babe,” Eiffel yanked on his socks and headed down. He put on his shoes and coat as Hera did her daily check of the house, plugging herself into the small port which allowed her to read all the data the house stored. One of the many benefits of dating an android were the upgrades she’d made to their house. She could control all the electronics and sense most of what went on throughout the house. At this point he was also pretty sure could sense his heartbeat. He didn’t like to think too much about it, but he trusted that Hera could protect their house from just about anything, even remotely.

“Okay, let’s go” Hera said as she disconnected from the house. They got into the car. One of Eiffel’s favourite parts of working with his girlfriend was driving there together. Eiffel drove, although Hera liked to remind him that she could control the car remotely, and wold probably do a better job than him,. But he liked driving. It calmed him to focus on nothing but himself and the road. Luckily  for him he had girlfriend who liked to humour the weird quirks of his “biology”.

“So…how has work been without me?” Eiffel asked as nonchalantly as he could.

“Eiffel,” Hera smiled at his transparency, “They missed you. Minkowski and the rest. Even Lovelace.” 

Hera grimaced slightly at the mention of the prickly new chef. She’d come from a much fancier restaurant which had gone bankrupt from bad management. All the staff had been ready to sympathize with her up until the moment they met her. Lovelace would only interact with people at the bare minimum of human decency, and sometime less if she was stressed out or distracted. She always treated Hera politely but something about the chef’s manner left her feeling less than human. She didn’t like that feeling.

“Maybe I’ve finally cracked her shell?” Eiffel joked, “Stage one: make Lovelace miss me, is a success, we’ll be braiding each other’s hair and gossiping about boys in a week.”

Hera giggled, “I think your estimates might be a bit optimistic.” 

Lovelace had honestly barely noticed Eiffel’s absence beyond the restaurant being short  waiter, but there had been someone who had missed Eiffel quite a lot—Minkowski. She’d asked Hera how he was doing every day and had even made him chicken soup. She didn’t think Eiffel remembered, that had been during ether worst of his fever, but Hera certainly did. And she was staring to find his ridiculous dance around Minkowski and her husband ridiculous. She’d been ready to step aside and let them  get together at their own pace. when she decided that she hadn’t realized that their pace would be so slow.

“Oh, have you calculated the exact probability of me and Lovelace having sleepover?” Eiffel’s teasing voice drew her from her planning.

“Of course,” Hera said in her most monotone, “There is a point-oh-one percent chance of it.”

“I will take it!” he declared as they drove into the restaurant’s parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://www.abby-not-too-shabby.tumblr.com) if you want to chat


	4. Missed Me?

Renee was setting up her section of the kitchen when she heard his voice drifting in from the door.

“Eiffel?” she turned to face the door.

“Hey boss,” he walked into the kitchen followed by Hera, both in their plain black wait-staff clothes. She examined him closely, looking for any sign he was still sick but he seemed to be back to full health, mostly thanks to Hera's hard work. The poor woman had been complaining about Eiffel’s fight to get back to work early for the past week. Apparently he’d been trying to get back from the moment his fever broke, the ridiculous man.

“It’s good to have you back, Eiffel. Things have been hectic without you,” she considered giving him a hug. That would be too much, wouldn't it? She decided against it and instead just stood drinking in the sight of him.

“Aww, Minkowski, you missed me,” his tone was joking but the accompanying smile lit up his face. Renee equally loved and hated how easy it was to make Eiffel light up with praise. It was always nice to see that smile but it also reminded her how deprived of praise his childhood had been.

“So what if I did miss you,” she mumbled, “I may have gotten…extremely used to you and your annoying references.”

“Hera, Hera,” he tugged on his girlfriend's arm like an over-excited five year old, “Minkowski _really_ missed me, she sounds like a memo from command—‘extremely used to me’. She only gets this monotonous when she's having _emotions_.”

Renee felt herself blush, and worried for a moment that Eiffel realized that she had missed him a bit more than a boss should miss their employee, “Don’t get too excited, we’re just short staffed without you.”

“You know I can only serve one table at a time…” Hera began the time old argument, giving Renee a brief look to let her know that _someone_ had picked up on her crush.

“You know we can’t afford to get you duplication upgrades,” Renee responded, grateful for the subject change, “Unless, you’d like to take it up with Mr. Cutter.”

Hera shuddered at the mention of the store manager, a man with an almost eerie ability to read people. He always got under Hera’s skin. Renee remembered her first meeting with the man at her interview. If she hadn’t been so desperate for a head chef position she may have turned it down simply based on that encounter. Luckily she didn’t have to work with him on daily basis, managing Hilbert was enough.

“As much as I love anything that stops you two from uniting against me we really don’t have time for this argument,” Doug interjected, “We open in ten minutes.”

“Then shouldn’t you already be setting the tables?” Renee asked.

“Oh, shit,” Eiffel ran out front, grabbing the cutlery cart on his way out.

“Bye, Minkowski,” Hera smirked as she followed him out.

Renee turned back to her counter and began to prep her vegetables. Those two would be the death of her.


	5. Multitasking

Eiffel was in such a rush to get the tables ready that it had taken him a while to notice that Hera had followed him out of the kitchen a few moments late, looking like a cat that had gotten the cream.

“Hey, babe, what’s got you so happy?” he asked.

“Nothing, just bugging Minkowski. You know how it is.”

Eiffel did very much know. A side effect of his schoolboy-ish crush was that he had resorted to pigtail pulling, like a kid. At least annoying Minkowski into noticing him worked. He figured it was better than nothing. That didn’t really explain Hera bugging her, though. The two were very level headed and only really fought about work things, like that time Minkowski had wanted Hera to check into work with some weird digital program Eiffel still didn’t completely understand. Hera had thought the program was an invasion of privacy and a sign that  Minkowski didn't trust her. Then Hera had gotten majorly pissed. But she wasn’t the type to annoy people for fun. Eiffel frowned at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You don’t just bug Minkowski. I’m onto you.”

“Of course, Eiffel. We were having a secret meeting as part of a secret plot we’ve been planning while you were sick,” she said with the deadpan she used only while being sarcastic.

“You know, I’d almost believe that except that I know you were too busy keeping me chained to the bed while I was sick,” Eiffel joked before realizing the accidental innuendo. So maybe he sometimes liked Hera typing him up in bed, that was no one else’s business. And he wished he could stop _blushing_ about it.

Hera gave him a knowing smirk but simply said, “You know I can multitask better than any human Eiffel. Don’t doubt my ability to secretly plot while doing…other things.”

“Trust me, Hera, I don’t doubt you at all,” he said before rushing to a table on the other side of the restaurant to try and preserve what was left of his dignity. Sometimes Eiffel wished he wasn't so attracted to hyper-competent people, it would probably make him feel less stupid. It also wouldn't be nearly as much fun.


End file.
